


Past Becomes Present

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Age Reversal, Belief, Dick Grayson is Damian Wayne's Father, DickDamiWeek, Gen, Healing, Magic, Wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7859323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Closing his eyes, Dick gave a single nod as Morgan held her hand out toward him, energy crackling within it. "<i>Are you prepared to face your past?</i>" The words were the first Morgan had spoken to any of them present in this room. She hadn't said a thing to Clark or Bruce or even to Kyle, but - to Dick - she spoke without reserve. Opening his eyes, he looked up into her face, <i>felt</i> her thoughts in his mind and he knew why he'd never heard a breath from her before this. "<i>There are things you have kept hidden that will come to light if you follow this path, Dick Grayson. Are you prepared to face them?</i>"</p><p>Dick bowed his head again, taking in a calming breath and pushing his thoughts out toward her. "<i>I am. I would not be standing here if I were not.</i>"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past Becomes Present

**Author's Note:**

> For DickDamiWeek over on tumblr. Day 3: Age Reversal - We're going with maximum age gap here, guys, or this doesn't work.  
> Beta Readers: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "Welcome Home, Son" by Radical Face

Dick had never considered himself one to be particularly bothered by his own past. Sure, there were things he'd do over, maybe things he'd keep to himself rather than telling certain people, but there was never really anything that left him wanting an actual "do over" in order to fix it. What other people might have considered a mistake, Dick tended to think of as only a lesson in what life had to offer him. 

Even as they stood here, in front of Morgan le Fay, faced with a threat that could only be fought with the use of her powers, Dick couldn't find _regret_ , at least not in the way anyone would have thought he should have if they'd know the truth. There was no hesitation and no fear in his face as he waited his turn, knowing all the while that some things he'd kept hidden - by choice - were about to be revealed to the one person who was never supposed to find out. He knew there was no way he wouldn't be found out; there was no way Damian didn't remember nearly everything from when he was a small child. 

Closing his eyes, Dick gave a single nod as Morgan held her hand out toward him, energy crackling within it. " _Are you prepared to face your past?_ " The words were the first Morgan had spoken to any of them present in this room. She hadn't said a thing to Clark or Bruce or even to Kyle, but - to Dick - she spoke without reserve. Opening his eyes, he looked up into her face, _felt_ her thoughts in his mind and he knew why he'd never heard a breath from her before this. " _There are things you have kept hidden that will come to light if you follow this path, Dick Grayson. Are you prepared to face them?_ "

Dick bowed his head again, taking in a calming breath and pushing his thoughts out toward her. " _I am. I would not be standing here if I were not._ "

He could hear the crackle of energy and then the ice cold shock of her magic hitting him. Just like the others before him, he felt the years fade away and then he was _gone_ , sucked into the split timeline from his own. He pulled up his sleeve, fingers fumbling as he tried to get used to the way his body felt at this age, so young and frantic in comparison to how he was now. The faint red mark Morgan said she'd leave as a symbol to herself in the past was there, just as she'd said it would be.

Hands hauled him up and Dick shuddered at the feeling of his legs, so unsteady he wasn't sure they'd hold him. Bruce's voice, so much younger, came close to his ear. "You're still certain about this, no matter what it means will be revealed?"

Dick let Bruce support him for a moment, giving the slightest bob of his head. "I know what it will mean."

Bruce's hands brushed over his arms and then he stepped away from him. "Your connection will be the strongest. It's up to you to find him."

Dick held out his hands, every other member of the league who had come placing small green objects there until everyone had done so except Bruce. Their eyes met and Bruce dropped the final piece onto his cupped palms, watching as a surge of green light lit up the surrounding area, brightening and then flashing out in an instant. Everything dulled and Dick's world slowly lost color except a singular path, lit with lime green. Tucking the orb into his pocket, he settled into a crouch and waited, seeing if it shifted at all, watching the edges of the painted swath of light until he could see it shift now and then. Relief rushed through him and he stood, breathing out, "I see the way."

Kyle held up his ring, forming a disk in the air and then bringing it down to place it under them, each of them stepping onto it. He began to build it up around them, the lines of his construct as defined as they ever had been, and Dick watched with amazement, for the first time not in the midst of battle while Kyle built something with his ring. The consoles came up around them and it became a ship of shorts, the helm materializing itself in front of Dick. "Lead on then. Time is, as I understand it, of the essence."

Dick took the controls and reached up, drawing a small rectangle in the air in front of him. "Take this part down as thin as you can? The path is green... your constructs are green... bit of a problem."

The construct thinned out in front of Dick to the bare minimum and Kyle settled beside him on a seat he'd created. "Better?" Dick nodded, finding the path and then reaching to ease them into the air, high enough up not to disturb the lay of the land but far enough down that he wasn't obstructing any flight paths of anything else that could be around. He throttled it full and they took off, zipping off down the path that the orb created for him.

When they arrived, hours later, Dick wasn't at all surprised to find them on the same small island he recalled from far earlier in his life, from an age that was nearly rivaled to the one he was now. He stood then, giving the controls over to Kyle and gesturing. "Give me an exit, right here. Let me go in first, give me ten minutes and if you don't hear from me, assume I need your help."

Kyle opened up the side of the ship and Dick crouched, waiting on the right moment, and then launching himself down into the midst of the trees lining the other end of the island, directly toward where the light led him. He landed easily, pulling himself up to his feet and making his way through the tangle of vines. 

A strong set of arms grabbed him hard, yanking him back against a solid wall of a body and Dick instantly went to fight, before he heard a quiet, "Brothers... let him be." The voice was sure, steady and positively one that Dick would have known anywhere. The arms let him go and Dick stepped away, glancing back to find one of Damian's predecessors standing behind him, his face painted lightly orange around his eyes, perhaps the hint of a mask, not unlike Damian's own. He gave him a nod and stepped around the tree, gaze settling on Damian's form.

Damian lay there against the tree, his entire side drenched with blood, enough so that he looked incredibly pale already. His breathing was labored and everything about the situation screamed that there wasn't all that much time left on this horrible clock that had been ticking for _days_. Kneeling down, Dick reached to move Damian's hand away from his side, finding the huge gouge there, blood flowing sluggishly from the wound. Their eyes met for a moment and then Dick gathered him into his arms, easing his head against his shoulder and holding him there. 

Damian's hand fisted in the front of Dick's costume as he burrowed his face against Dick's shoulder. They started toward where he could see the glow of Kyle's construct, Damian's predecessors lumbering after them, faint sounds of something that sounded like _brother_ bubbling up every once in a while, leaving Dick gritting his teeth, knowing something he honestly hadn't before.

He stepped onto Kyle's construct, turning to look at Damian's brothers for a moment, sadness in his gaze as Bruce took Damian from his arms. He knelt as the construct began to hover and reached out, his fingertips lightly touching those of one of Damian's brothers'. There was a little white spark and Dick could have sworn he saw the understanding dawn on all of their faces, the largest of them managing, "Fa-ther." 

Dick swallowed hard against his emotions, grasping his hand and squeezing it gently, returning a quiet, "My sons..." before he let go, turning to lean against the wall as Kyle sealed up the ship and they raised up higher into the air.

Clark knelt by Dick's side, holding out his hand, the small green cube in it from Damian. Dick retrieved the orb from his pocket, holding it out and letting Clark click the piece into place. Their eyes met and an instant later, Dick was in Clark's arms, Clark holding him tight against him as he felt himself breaking down. Light surrounded all of them and Dick could feel the fade away and then the pull back into what reality _had_ been, his past fading away into exactly that once again. Even as they shot off toward the cave, toward saving Damian's life, Dick couldn't bring himself to lift his head, couldn't force his mind to do anything other than feel the grief of all the things he'd lost with one fragile little lie in his past.

No one else spoke, not one person saying a word to him or about what was happening, except Clark. His words were gentle, little phrases of apology for putting him in this position, the smallest of whispers that told him his secret was safe where it was. Dick remained in his arms for as long as he could, only pulling back to rest against the wall when he felt exhausted, as though everything inside of him had run its course in the span of only a half an hour or so. He took in a trembling breath and let his head loll enough to the side to see Damian. He understood instantly that Damian hadn't stopped watching him, hadn't let him out of his sight since he'd found him. 

Pushing himself to his feet, he rested his hand on Clark's shoulder, squeezing by way of thanks for being there for him. Pushing his hand through his hair, he made his way to Damian's side, settling onto the small seat Kyle had created next to where they'd laid Damian out. Damian reached for him and Dick slid his hand into Damian's own, forcing himself to meet his eyes. The words were small, hitching with his breath, but Damian spoke them regardless. "You never told me..." It wasn't accusing in the way Dick had thought it would be, it wasn't even upset. It was just there, a statement of an undeniable fact. 

Dick swallowed, bringing Damian's hand up to his lips pressing a tender kiss against his knuckles and then pressing Damian's palm to his cheek, closing his eyes. "I didn't know how. I was only _sixteen_... you have to understand-"

"I do." Damian's thumb eased over his lips, pressing to quiet him. "Do not feel it necessary to speak of that part. Only... when were you going to tell me?"

Dick clutched at Damian's wrist, feeling the threat of tears in his sinuses, the sting that came before, and he bit it back, shaking his head the slightest bit. "I wasn't. I couldn't think of a way that wouldn't make you hate me and I couldn't stand that idea."

Damian was silent for long enough that Dick opened his eyes, peered down into Damian's saddened face. Their hands found one another again, gripping hard, palm to palm. "I will never hate you... _Father_." 

Warmth flooded through Dick and an instant later, he could see the white spark of light coming from between their palms. He watched as it spread down Damian's arm, traveling through his veins and then flooded down through his body, leaving him arching from the table, gasping, his eyes rolling back in his head. When he dropped back down, Dick could see the relief in his face, could see the color returning to his cheeks, and he _understood_ what Morgan had done for him. She had given him the power to heal his son, had gifted him something more than the ability to find him and return him to his timeline; she'd given him _belief_. Belief in himself and belief in Damian that they'd survive it all and that they'd come out the other side stronger than they'd gone in. 

Tucking his smile away behind the back of Damian's hand, Dick closed his eyes and offered his silent thanks; one he knew he'd be offering for a very long time to come.


End file.
